


Just A Nightmare... right?

by NonbinaryNerdbot



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beholding Powers at Work, Jon Has A Cane, Jon Wears Glasses, M/M, Soft Martin, Supportive Boyfriend Martin Blackwood, Unspecified Fear, Wow isn't it great how the world 160 just had the boys and Good Cows?, canon typical spookiness, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonbinaryNerdbot/pseuds/NonbinaryNerdbot
Summary: Jon's not quite sure where he is, but something about this feels wrong. Georgie hasn't met Sasha... Right? And what's happening? Why can he not see the room he's in? Gerry, what are you doing here?? .... Tim?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 1
Kudos: 100





	Just A Nightmare... right?

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

Jon whipped around, facing the familiar voice, his stomach dropping in disbelief, “Tim?”

Tim Stoker stood, hip cocked against the nearby counter, his short blond hair tipped in a red that looked fresh - blood across freshly fallen snow. His plaid button up was cuffed to his elbows, the fabric stretching slightly to accommodate his strong, wiry muscles. His blue eyes, surrounded with the faintest ring of black eye liner, sparkled with mischief, the smirk pulling at his mouth reminding Jon of the old barn cat his grandmother’s neighbor had that would look so smug and satisfied after catching a mouse. 

Jon could feel his jaw drop ever so slightly, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was so shocked to see Tim here. Something about it felt… off. Though try as he might, Jon couldn’t pin a finger on why. 

“Looks like we’ve got a little lost Archivist.” Another voice sounded from behind him. 

Jon spun around again, a wave of dizziness hitting him. “Georgie?”

Georgie Barker stood, a coy little smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. Her slick black hair was pulled back into an elegant, high bun, a silk headscarf holding back the stray strands from her face. Her deep brown, almond shaped eyes lacked any makeup, but Jon never seemed to notice, her face flawless in his eyes. Her smooth ivory skin looked as even and perfect as it had in college, before either of them had begun living dangerous lives. Georgie’s own podcast t-shirt hung stylishly off her frame, a jacket tied around her waist and draping down her dark wash jeans and iconic Doc Martin boots. 

“You should be careful about wandering, Archivist.”

Jon spun again, feeling exhausted and confused as he turned, “Gerry?”

Gerard Keay leaned against a wall, his dyed black hair pulled back in a low braid, silver jewelry and obviously handmade protection charms hanging from his neck. His tattered black clothing hung off his frame, as though he had gotten them before losing quite a bit of weight and just had yet to replace them. His face was less mirthful than the others, though he did have a vague look of amusement across his face. 

Jon couldn’t process fast enough. He sat down in a chair he hadn’t noticed before, reaching out and gripping his cane tightly, thinking hard about what was going on. He wasn’t quite sure, to be honest. He knew he was probably still in London, but only because he didn’t remember leaving. With his track record recently though he knew kidnapping was very much an option. He tried to gain insight from the room around him, but his eyes seemed to refuse to focus, sliding away from any recognizable details to the nearest person. Jon had looked almost all the way around the room when the breath left his body, his stomach sinking like a rock.

“Sasha?” Jon asked. Or, he thought he had. He wasn’t quite sure whether his mouth had opened or not when he spoke. He wasn’t even quite sure why he was so sure that Sasha shouldn’t be there. He just seemed to feel deep within him that Sasha being here made everything incredibly wrong. 

“Oh, finally noticed me then, boss?” Sasha asked, her thick curly hair tied back with a red plaid headband that matched her shirt, her light brown leather jacket in place, just as it had been every day they had worked together in the Archives. Jon was fairly certain Sasha had been wearing it to work for as long as she had worked at the Institute, and some small part of him was overjoyed to see his old colleague again. Again, he wasn’t quite sure why he was so happy to see Sasha, but he knew as great as it was to see her, that this was incredibly wrong.

“Sasha, what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting his cane nervously. He kept looking around the room, pulling in the others. He didn’t have a good feeling about Tim or Gerry either, but the sickening pit in his stomach seemed to flare when he looked at Sasha, and almost soothe when he looked at Georgie. Despite this, Jon kept his eyes bouncing mainly between Tim and Sasha. 

Sasha swayed around, moving closer to Tim before hopping up on the counter that Jon wasn’t sure he had noticed before. Sasha leaned over and bumped Tim’s shoulder, “I take it the poor lad doesn’t know, then?” 

Jon felt like crying at the sweet teasing tone that was so familiar to him. 

“Gerry did try to warn him,” Tim said, his smirk a little colder than normal when he looked at Jon. 

“That is true, Archivist.” Jon spun to face Gerry, his heart in his throat, the eye tattoos on Gerry’s joints seeming to stare through him. “I did warn you not to stray.”

“Where am I?” Jon demanded. Well, tried. A quaking voice doesn’t do much to make you more intimidating.

“Oh Jon,” Georgie spoke up, “I know you’ve always had trouble with directions, but honestly, even you must know where you are right now.”

“Oh come now, Georgie,” Tim spoke up, “I once saw him get lost in the Institute’s library. It’s not exactly that hard to get him turned around.”

“Be fair, Tim,” Sasha chided, “You got turned around your fair share in that library too. Although, Jon is the reason there’s maps available now.”

“Even so,” Gerry cut in, “The Archivist should be able to tell when he’s treading into territory he shouldn’t be. Although I suppose it’s rather unfair to compare Jon to his predecessors, given what he’s following.” 

Jon forced himself to stand, instinctively reaching for his cane before cursing internally at the lack of one nearby. He pressed on, however, straightening as much as he could, looking Gerry in the eye and reaching deep inside himself.

“ _Where Am I_?” He asked, his tongue buzzing with the faint power of the Beholding in whatever hellscape he found himself in. Whatever was going on here, Jon was now certain something was wrong. 

Gerry laughed, a dark, tortured thing that sent chills down Jon’s spine. “Oh little Archivist, trying to use your powers on me? That won’t work here. The Beholding has no power here. Or at least, not enough to make a difference. I’ll tell you when I’m damn good and ready.”

The silence rang out as everyone waited, unsure as to how to react. After a few moments, Gerry blew out a breath and gestured with a hand, indicating the table that was now clearly big enough for the 5 of them to sit comfortably, though Jon could have sworn it was just big enough for two a minute ago. Everyone sat, making themselves comfortable and looking toward Gerry, clearly off put by Jon’s attempt at Beholding powers and Gerry's ... reaction. 

Gerry opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Jon felt the world tilt, and he felt the ground drop out from beneath his feet. 

Jon slammed to the ground, the breath knocking out of him firmly. He heard his cane clatter to the floor and he quickly pushed himself up, smacking his forehead into an open desk drawer, a flow of curses falling from his mouth like a waterfall. 

“Jon, are you okay?!”

Jon jerked away, spinning to face the familiar voice before it had even been identified, trying to see through the reflexive tears as he struggled to find both his glasses and his cane, fully prepared to run as soon as possible.

“Whoa, whoa, Jon, it’s okay. It’s just me, it’s Martin.” A deep, soft voice washed over him, warm hands pushing glasses into Jon’s hand and gathering his cane closer while pushing the chair he had likely fallen from out of the way.

Jon coughed a couple of times, still trying to get his breath back, pushing his glasses onto his face and wiping the tears away, “Martin?” He asked, not quite sure he believed it yet.

“Yes, Jon, it’s me. It’s okay, we’re safe.” Martin continued to try to soothe. 

“ _Where are we_?” He demanded, not even thinking to not use his powers, the static of the Beholding flooding his entire face and neck, making the air in front of his eyes shift like an old television when it first turned on.

“We’re in Scotland, in Daisy’s safehouse. We’re about a mile and a half outside of the nearest town of Coyleck, near Lock Eck. It’s about 8 and a half hours from London.” Martin stated clearly, his eyes slightly glassy.

“Sorry!” Jon suddenly cut him off, now sitting up, able to see and much more aware as to what was going on around him. “Sorry, sorry, you can stop. Thank you, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, I just…” Jon curled in on himself a little, unsure how to continue.

Martin, for his part, didn’t seem too upset. He scrunched his nose up and shook his head a little when Jon released his control, trying to clear his head a bit before immediately going to help Jon up. “It’s alright, Jon, just… Come on, let’s go sit. I already had the kettle on, let’s have some tea and we can figure out what happened.”

Jon nodded, letting Martin help him to the couch and wrap him in a large warm blanket before disappearing briefly before coming back around with tea. The two sat like that for a long while, not wanting to break the silence.

Jon didn’t really feel tired anymore for certain.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lemme know what you think, feel free to scream on the big blue @archives-lo-fi-charm.... If I get a few requests for it I may continue with this train of thought, but tis all for now.


End file.
